Akstur á Sjó
by LuminousLilt
Summary: A young woman finds herself far from home with no way to return. With the man who saved her wanting her gone and an ancient threat returning to the world, what will she do?


She was falling, the rushing air ripping at her hair and clothes. Above her was an endless expanse of solid gray, and below an equally endless expanse of darker gray, the mottled lights and darks of boiling water. It wasn't such a long way down, and rapidly coming closer. Even from this height she probably wouldn't die, but the impact was going to be far from painless. In the last moments before she hit the water, she closed her eyes and braced herself.

* * *

Everything hurt. It was horrible and all she wanted to do was curl up and bury her head in her pillow. Even the thought of moving hurt. It took a lot of effort to convince herself to find a more comfortable position, but moving and stretching her sore muscles did help somewhat. It also made her aware of the rough clothes she was wearing and the heavy blankets she was under. At least they were warm, there was a definite chill in the air on her exposed skin. Was moving to get away from the cold worth it? It was, although she didn't consciously make the decision before she pulled the blankets over her head. It was when she breathed a contented sigh that she began to register the foreignness of the situation.

There had been mornings when she had woken up sore, especially after illicit bouts with her brothers on the training grounds, but this particular pain was new. It was a bone-deep ache that turned to a near agony when she moved, while at the same time accompanied by a stiffness that insisted she had been still for too long.

The blankets and clothes she wore were rough on her skin, a far cry from the linen sheets and silken gown she was accustomed to waking in.

And the smell of the blankets, now that they were pressed to her face. It was… Foreign. Wrong.

With that realization, she came a step closer to full wakefulness. She pushed the blankets down far enough that she could blink out at the dim room, but not quite far enough that she had to brave the chill air. Even in the winter, her rooms were never cold.

From what she could see without moving, the room was small. There was a small table beside the bed, a chair next to that, and a dresser against the wall, leaving only a small path open to the door - which was closed. The only light in the room was what managed to filter through the heavy curtains that were hung over a small window. There were a pitcher and glass of water on the table, and she resolved to drain the glass and moisten her mouth. Just as soon as she convinced herself to sit up.

Eventually, thirst won out and she forced herself upright, although she was careful to keep her left arm in her lap and do most of the work with her right. Even without looking, she was sure that the whole left side of her body would be covered in deep, dark bruising. The cool water helped bring her more fully awake and she realized that she really had no idea where she was or how she got there. Or why she hurt so badly.

She missed putting the empty glass back on the table and winced at the heavy _thunk_ of it hitting the carpet. Reaching it from the bed was out of the question, so she forced herself to her feet and carefully knelt to retrieve the glass. This time she set it carefully away from the edges of the table. Once upright, the best course of action seemed to be to figure out where she was. The window was within reach, so she pulled the curtain aside and got her first view of the outside world.

It was gray; as gray as the light that had filtered into the room. From the clouds, to the rocky cliffs in the distance, the stone buildings nearby, and the water in the middle. Everything was gray. And the water, the sight of it chilled her and she was reminded of the sight of it from above, just as gray then and rushing up to meet her.

A soft tap on the door shocked her back to the present. She spun and nearly lost her balance when her stiff muscles refused to keep up with the movement. Instead of falling, she sat heavily on the bed in time for the door to open on well-oiled hinges.

"Good morning, I'm glad to see you're finally awake," said the blonde woman now standing in the doorway. "You gave everyone quite the scare. Are you alright?"

It took a long moment for her brain to catch up and recognize the words. They were familiar, although heavily accented and in a dialect she didn't recognize. "I- yes. I'm alright."

The woman smiled softly. "You were pulled from the sea two days ago. We were starting to wonder when you would wake up. I'm afraid we don't have proper medical facilities, so we were starting to worry…" She trailed off and her expression fell slightly. "Can you tell me what happened? We've been listening for reports of anyone who fell overboard, or ships that were lost, but no one's heard anything."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, thinking, before she replied. What would her brothers do? In her experience, whatever they _wouldn't_ do was usually the best option. They would never dream of not telling someone who they were, or how they got there, instead they would trust that information to do the talking for them. Although it would inevitably get them into trouble, one way or another. "No," she said, finally, "I'm sorry."

"That's alright. You only just woke up, maybe it'll come back to you. I'll go see if we can't get something warm put together for you to eat. My name is Anna, and I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

"Thank you, Anna. I'm Thyra."

"Think nothing of it, Thyra. Not everyone is so pleasant to be around when they wake up, and we've had more than our fair share of unfortunate visitors brought in from the sea."

"Where are we?" Thyra asked quickly, as the thought struck her.

"This is the village of Djúpavík. There's not a lot else around here. We aren't expecting any more ships this year, and once winter sets in it will be nearly impossible to get anywhere by land."

"I see." It was impossible to miss the implication: leave now or be trapped until spring. "I think if you don't mind, I'll come down to eat."

"We would be happy to have you join us." With that and a final soft smile, the woman left.

Djúpavík. The name was unfamiliar to Thyra. Another look out the window confirmed what the woman had implied; winter was near. The water outside was dotted with icebergs that would make it dangerous for any ship to attempt to approach the village. If she was going to have to leave on foot, it would be best if she did it soon.

Before she went to follow Anna downstairs, Thyra relaxed back onto the bed and closed her eyes, easily slipping into a meditative trance. The warmth in her core was easy to find, if somewhat weakened. With a little nudging, that warmth flowed out into her aching muscles. It wouldn't be quite as effective as taking medicine for the pain, and it was much less effective than the healing she would have received with proper medical care, but for the time being, it was the best she could do. Besides, being amongst strangers, the suspicion that a sudden healing could raise had a very good chance of being dangerous. Until she knew who could be trusted, that sort of thing was something that needed to be avoided.

When she opened her eyes again, she felt an odd combination of refreshed and exhausted. Standing was much easier than it had been the first time, and her muscles no longer protested at the slightest movement, although the visible bruising would remain for several more days at the least. However, it also took a little bit more effort and energy to move than it had before. That was nothing a little food and rest wouldn't solve.

Thyra found a set of proper clothes and a pair of boots at the foot of the bed, so she took a minute to change before she left the room. The short hallway she found herself in was lined with doors, a window at one end and stairs at the other. As she descended the stairs, she realized that she must have been brought to a public-house with an attached inn. Given how small the village appeared to be, it was almost surprising that she wasn't in someone's private home.

The ground floor had tables and seating for perhaps a dozen people, with a few additional stools placed along the bar at the far end of the room. The room itself was nearly empty, with three men sitting at one table, and a fourth man sitting on his own across the room. Or he had been, as he left while she paused at the bottom of the stairs and took her survey.

At the sound of the door slamming shut, Anna appeared in the doorway that was behind the bar. She smiled and waved Thyra to one of the seats at the bar, before she ducked back into what was likely the kitchen. Anna reappeared shortly carrying a tray in one hand and a pot in the other. She set out the tray was quickly revealed to have a bowl of oatmeal along with various toppings, and an empty mug which was quickly filled with steaming, dark liquid from the pot. "Our specialty hafragrautur and kaffi, you won't find much better than this," Anna said with a flourish. "Well, not in Djúpavík, anyway."

Thyra chuckled obligingly at the joke and added some butter to the oatmeal with a "Thank you." Growing up, she had always preferred fruit in her oatmeal, but in its place simplicity would have to suffice. The kaffi, however, she was unfamiliar with. While the butter melted, she took a careful sip. It was almost too hot to drink, definitely hot enough to overwhelm much of the taste. What was left was nutty, if a little burnt and bitter tasting. Whatever it was, it was perfect for a cold morning.

"Hm…" Thyra looked up from her breakfast at the thoughtful noise. Anna was watching the room's other occupants when she spoke again. "You must have just missed Arthur. He's been in here all morning. He was the one who pulled you from the water."

"He might have left when I came down," Thyra supplied.

"Tall and dark? Stands out from the rest of us like a sore thumb?" To that Thyra shrugged and nodded. Sure? It wasn't like she had seen more than the handful of people currently sitting throughout the room. Although, now that she mentioned it, everyone who was left, including Thyra herself, were all varying shades of blond that ranged from one older man's nearly white hair to Thyra's own honey-blonde. "He spends some time here each winter, so he's still around somewhere."

"I'll have to thank him when I see him."

This time it was Anna who chuckled. "I hope I'm there to see that. Arthur, as a rule, doesn't like being thanked." Thyra shrugged again. Whether or not the man liked to be thanked, it was still the proper thing to do. And perhaps, if he was still there and it became necessary, she would be able to leave the village with him. Better to be with someone who knew the area than to try navigating unfamiliar terrain in the winter alone.

That, however, was something she would worry about later, as more of a backup plan.

A call went up from the men and Anna excused herself to see to them.

While Anna was occupied, Thyra finished her breakfast. It was time to find a way out of this village. "I need some fresh air," she said to Anna's questioning look as she headed to the door. The woman nodded and continued her conversation with the men.

Outside it was indeed cold. The brisk, refreshing kind that wouldn't be too bad as long as she kept moving.

The village itself was very small, consisting only of a few dozen buildings clustered closely together on a grassy stretch of land between the water and jagged, imposing cliffs. She was ignored by the few people she passed as she made her way slowly out of the village. The cliffs ran nearly parallel to the shoreline, before curving out of sight a short way down the coast. Thyra followed the slow curve of the land and soon the village was hidden from sight behind her. The landscape was so rugged that she was barely a mile outside the village before the cliffs were right up to the water's edge. A narrow path had taken her up away from the water, slowly climbing the cliffs until it ended at a rock that jutted out over the water.

The land here was so desolate, she had left behind even the slight greenery of grass with the village. It would be nearly impossible for anyone to find her there if they didn't find the same trail up the rocks that she had: she was perfectly hidden from everyone except the one whose attention she wanted to get.

"Heimdall?" she called, her voice immediately carried away on the wind and drowned in the crashing surf below. "Heimdall, can you here me? Bring me home, Heimdall." There was no response. Perhaps the Gatekeeper was busy with other duties, but there ought to have been _someone_ on hand to man the Bifrost. Besides, she had vanished so suddenly that her Father should have instructed the Gatekeeper to search for her. He should have seen her before she tried calling out to him. "Heimdall?"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:  
** Thank you for reading this far. Yes, I guess this is _technically_ a crossover with Marvel, but the crossover part is really just an OC and her backstory. If it ever becomes more than that, I'll update things accordingly.

Also, the only DC movies I've seen are Wonder Woman and Justice League. Everything I know about characters/plots/locations is from those two movies and the stories I've read. If I get something wrong or you just don't like how something comes across, let me know please. Either I'll like it and fix it, or I won't. I claim Author's Prerogative.

 **Translations:  
** _Hafragrautur_ \- Oatmeal  
 _Kaffi_ \- Coffee


End file.
